


They are two, alone

by glammetalkitten



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU - Comicverse
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-28 16:33:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/309831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glammetalkitten/pseuds/glammetalkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce, and Dick, and a whole vicious little circle of restrained affection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	They are two, alone

Dick’s skin is soft under his touch. Bruce skims his hand down from the nape of Dick’s neck, over his shoulder and down his side, revelling in the tingling sensation it leaves in his fingertips. He traces along the knife scars mapped across Dick’s back, silvery-pale in the dim light. He carefully outlines the bruises, old and new--

Dick flinches, and Bruce snatches his hand back. Around them, the manor is deathly silent. When Dick doesn’t stir any further, Bruce lowers his hand back again. He knows every inch of Dick’s body by sight, and he wants to learn it by touch as well. Here, across his ribs, was a knife wound courtesy of Two Face. There, a sword wound inflicted by Deathstroke. And here, on Dick’s shoulder, a small, round, puckered scar. Gunshot wound. The Joker. Bruce bends his head and presses his lips to the pale skin.

~ * ~

Lying on his side, facing away from Bruce, Dick suppresses a shiver at the kiss. He lies still, keeps his eyes closed and his breathing steady, feigning sleep.  
Bruce’s gentle caresses leave a trail of goose bumps in their wake and Dick, not one for staying still at the best of times, can feel his muscles vibrating with the effort to do so. He's aware that if he moves, the spell will be broken and Bruce will snatch his hand back for good, and probably retreat to the other side of the bed for good measure.

Dick knows that Bruce knows he is awake. He also knows that every touch, every stroke of callused fingertips and gentle press of lips, is Bruce expressing what he can't quite put into words. So he lies still, keeps his eyes closed and his breathing steady, feigning sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a play on a line from 'Helplessly Hoping' by Crosby, Stills, and Nash. Many thanks to glam_ang for her quick beta, and to silicondreams for all her encouragement whilst I poked and prodded.


End file.
